


morning sunshine, evening showers

by moonlitdrive



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: M/M, aka hot neighbour au, also vet tech bin, and a very fat cat, dentist dongmin, featuring gossip madnaes, the other two will feature very briefly sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitdrive/pseuds/moonlitdrive
Summary: Dongmin's fat cat Misook has started disappearing from his flat in the mornings. Also, a handsome new neighbour has moved in downstairs. Will Misook's matchmaking efforts be all for naught, or will Dongmin find something he didn't know he was looking for?
Relationships: Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin
Comments: 47
Kudos: 142





	1. stratus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Papillon87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillon87/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometime last year i came across this tumblr post about a cat named little bit which eventually inspired this fic. also dedicated to my dear butterfly who deserves everything and more!! happy early birthday!! :D

Dongmin wakes up. It’s finally his day off after a long week of dentist-ing, but he’s forgotten to shut the blinds and the sun has reached in through the window to lay a very unwelcome sunbeam on his pillow that’s also shining right into his eyes. Scowling, he tries to flip over and drag his blanket over his eyes, but by now it’s too late. Misook, his very fat, very judgemental cat, has realised he’s awake and has strutted imperiously into his room through the door that he leaves ajar because Misook gets _mad_ if she’s shut in at night but gets _madder_ if she’s left out.

She meows from the floor near his hand, which is dangling off the bed in defeat. “My alarm hasn’t even _rang_ yet,” he moans, kicking at the sheets reluctantly. But, as anyone who has ever owned a cat will know, a man is not the master of his house once a cat lives in it. A gentle but discerning paw touches his arm, along with a meow that is distinctly louder than the last one. Then she noses at his hand, which would be cute if she wasn’t trying to get him out of bed at - he peers dejectedly out of his blankets to squint at the digital alarm clock on his bedside - 8:21 am.

_Fine._ He heaves himself up, squinting as the sunbeam gleefully pokes its fingers under his eyelids, and Misook meows again - this time almost proudly, as if she’s patting herself on the back for getting him up. He grunts in response and stumbles out of bed, grabbing the fat cat on his way to the kitchen. She has the audacity to purr.

First things first though - Dongmin fills the coffee machine and sets it to brew as if on autopilot, rummaging in the fridge for breakfast ingredients and setting them out on the counter to deliberate before throwing open the cat food cupboard door and hunkering down in front of it.

“What’ll it be today then, your highness?” He picks up two cans. “ _Gravy Lovers Salmon_ or…” Casts a dramatic glare at Misook. “ _Chunky Chicken Feast?_ ”

It seems she’s decided enough words have been said this morning because Misook doesn’t deign to respond, instead sitting down and curling her tail about her daintily. But her blue eyes stare back at him with a commanding air that says “I couldn’t care less, human, except that you’re taking far too long and this is an issue I will escalate to your superiors.”

Dongmin sighs. “Look, I just wanted to give you the freedom of choice, you know.” He continues rambling to her as he straightens back up with one can - _Chunky Chicken Feast_ , it looks like - and cracks it open, dumping the chunky chicken contents into her shiny metal food dish. “But you’re just going to have to settle for whatever the hell I give you, as usual.”

At the sound of the can opening and food plopping into her bowl, Misook’s ears perk up. She gets to her feet and starts winding herself around Dongmin’s legs, purring like a motorcycle. He chuckles and leans down to put the bowl on the floor, which she attacks immediately. “Eat up, then, your majesty.” No response, because she’s busy snarfing the cat food, her tail held high and trembling in excitement with the tiniest question mark crook right at the end.

The coffee machine goes off, so Dongmin pours himself a fragrant cup (black, he can’t be bothered with milk this early) while he starts preparing himself some eggs and bacon. Bread goes in the toaster, and he lets himself enjoy the simple pleasure making and eating of a morning fry-up before he has to think about responsibilities again.

As he eats, though, he can hear the sound of a large vehicle reversing into the driveway below, and some voices calling to each other as it pulls to a stop. Despite it being his day off, it’s still a Wednesday, and life goes on outside Dongmin’s little bubble of peace. He’s received a notice in his mailbox to let him know that a new tenant will be occupying the unit beneath his own in the duplex, and that they’ll be moving in sometime this week. _Guess that sometime is today_ , Dongmin thinks as he washes up, then doesn’t think anymore of it. He has a full schedule today consisting entirely of laundry and Netflix. Perhaps he’ll get some food delivered for dinner.

The next day, it’s work as usual. Back in university, Dongmin had enrolled in Dentistry - not because of an all-encompassing love of teeth or anything, but he was one of those students who got consistent good grades in high school and his parents thought he (with his neat and detail-oriented personality) would make a great dentist. Several long years down the road, Dongmin enjoys the regular hours and the job stability, but he does kind of wish more people would make a point of brushing regularly so he doesn’t have to endure their halitosis during their regular check-ups.

One morning about two weeks later, Dongmin wakes up on another day off to the sound of his alarm. Rolling over blearily, he sticks an arm out and slaps at the clock - 10:00, it reads - before dragging himself out of his mound of blankets. _Something feels different…_ He shuffles out of the room, scratching his belly absent-mindedly, and puts the coffee on. He only realises what’s missing when he crouches down out of habit to get a can of Fancy Feast for Misook and it clicks. _Where the hell is Misook?_

As if on cue, a plaintive meow sounds - but this time it’s a little muffled. He casts around for the fluffy ball of fur, but she’s nowhere to be seen. She’s not in her cat bed, nor is she curled up on the couch, nor is she perched on the windowsill. Then she meows again and _what is she doing outside?_

Dongmin opens the front door to see her sitting indignantly just outside on the welcome mat, her paw raised as if to knock. She looks pleased, though, and when he leans down to scoop her up he can hear (and feel) her purring. “Excuse me ma’am, but you aren’t supposed to go gallivanting about on your own. It’s not safe,” he chides her, feeling a little shaken as he carries her back into the house. When he’d finally graduated medical school and started working, he had moved into this apartment all alone. There had been an ad in the paper (“Beautiful kittens to a good home!”) and a picture of Misook and her litter mates, and Dongmin had immediately gone down to the owner’s house and adopted one fluffy grey kitten. Despite the slightly stuck-up streak she’d revealed to him over the years, she’s still the most important thing in Dongmin’s life. So it’s a little anxiety-inducing to know that his cat might’ve been out the whole night doing god knows what and getting into all sorts of dangerous situations.

“At least you’re back,” he murmurs soothingly while stroking her plush fur, more to himself than the cat. She _mrreows_ and wriggles to be put down, stalking (as much as a fat kitty can stalk) over to her bed to inspect it before deeming it satisfactory and snuggling down into it. “Are you hungry after your adventure? I’ll get you your breakfast, sweetheart.”

He brings her a dish of tuna-flavored cat food, but instead of leaping up and gobbling it down like she usually does, Misook merely sticks her little nose over the edge of her cat bed and has a taste. Then, apparently satisfied, she withdraws and tucks herself under her fluffy tail.

Dongmin is stumped. “Did you like… eat a mouse instead or something?” he asks her, knowing full well he won’t get a response. But he finds it hard to believe his haughty princess has been out and about in the early morning hunting for vermin when she barely has a prey drive at all - he’s bought her a few of those butterfly-on-a-string toys, but she’s more inclined to bat at them lazily than any sort of the usual acrobatics cats pull with those things. Her favorite toy is a little squeaky pig, which she’s fond of holding in her mouth and carrying about purposefully as if she’s giving it a daily tour of the apartment. Definitely no hunter’s instinct there.

He keeps an eye on her the whole day, but other than seeming excessively pleased with her morning escapade, Misook is as normal as can be. She’s hungry again at dinner, so Dongmin brings out the dish of food again and she yams it down as daintily as she can.

The next morning, Dongmin is up early for work. He leaps out of bed in a hurry but Misook is still home, looking extremely unbothered. She glances at him as if to say “Nothing’s on fire, silly human,” before heading to the food cabinet and sitting down primly in front of it. Then she looks back up at him again.

“Okay, okay. One tin of _Chicken & Livers_, coming right up.”

Later on, when he’s about to leave for work, Dongmin makes sure to double and triple-check the front door is locked - not that Misook will be able to open it anyway, but he still can’t figure out how or when she managed to get out - and then clatters down the stairs in a hurry because he’s going to be late. On his way off the porch, he sees the new downstairs neighbour disappearing into his unit, presumably after a run. Dongmin is too late to catch a glimpse of the man’s face, but the exercise wear he’s dressed in does nothing to hide broad shoulders and toned biceps, as well as a pair of impressively-sculpted calves. _Oh no. He’s hot._ Dongmin suddenly can’t find his car keys and it’s a miracle he makes it to the clinic on time, because his mind is full of images of very nice arms.

The day’s patients are nothing but routine checkups. It’s for the best, since between appointments Dongmin is distracted enough to spill his coffee in the lounge room and invoke the ire of their chatty receptionist, Myungjun, who nags at him incessantly as he cleans up the mess.

“It’s _nothing_ , MJ, it’s just Misook got out yesterday and it’s been on my mind ever since,” Dongmin says, as he goes to make himself a new cup of coffee. After all, he isn’t telling any lies. Just not telling the whole truth. But he doesn’t think Myungjun really needs to know about his hot downstairs neighbour, especially when Dongmin hasn’t even seen the man’s face yet.

“You sure that’s all? Because you seem especially flustered today. It’s not very becoming of you,” Myungjun snorts, leaning against the lounge’s doorframe with his arms crossed. “Sanha, don’t you agree?”

“I thought he was gonna get sued with the amount of times that last patient said _ouch_ ,” Sanha, his assistant, calls over his shoulder as the tall man carries a tray of sanitized instruments into one of the appointment rooms. “Didn’t you graduate with ‘ _Most Likely To Be Nicknamed Gentlest Hands_ ’ from dentist school? Or was it ‘ _Most Likely To Grace The Cover Of Hot Dentists Monthly_ ’?” Simultaneous cackles from the two of them echo through the clinic in lieu of a high-five, but Dongmin can hear it in their laughs.

“Shut up, Sanha. MJ, isn’t the next appointment in ten minutes? Go-- go sort through their patient records or something.” The petulance is clear in Dongmin’s voice, but there _is_ a patient due to show up and they’re known for being very prompt, so MJ and Sanha go their separate ways with a final snicker and leave Dongmin to finish his fresh cup of coffee.

Fortunately the rest of the day goes without any more accidents on Dongmin’s part and he goes home to his cat who is blessedly safe and sound, enraptured by a family of ducks paddling in the pond outside the bay window. (That bay window had been the reason he’d rented the apartment - though it was relatively small and the top floor of an older house that had been converted into the duplex it was now, both top and bottom units had a lovely large bay window. Dongmin had been unable to resist.)

Every morning after that, Dongmin leaps out of bed even before his alarm, but Misook is always there waiting for her breakfast as if she’d never even _dream_ of going on a little adventure of her own. That is, until Dongmin’s next Wednesday off.

Having been lulled into a false sense of security over the past few days, Dongmin manages to sleep in til 10 am again before his alarm causes him to shoot straight up in bed. He scrambles out of his blankets and bolts out of the bedroom door and, to his horror, Misook is _again_ missing. Not in the cat bed, not on the couch, not on the windowsill or sitting at the bay window. _Please, don’t let her be gone!_

With his heart in his throat, Dongmin runs to the front door and flings it wide open. Just like last week, Misook is there on the landing, except this time she’s grooming herself as if there’s nothing wrong with being outside without Dongmin’s knowledge since god knows when.

He’s astounded but relieved, and again Dongmin grabs her and brings her back inside as she writhes to be freed from his too-tight grasp. Again, she’s not hungry, and Dongmin puts the dish of Fancy Feast ( _Classic Seafood Feast!_ ) away in the fridge for later. Again, she doesn’t display any signs of being hurt or distraught, and Dongmin is completely bewildered but allows himself to relax since Misook is back and clearly okay.

At work the next day, he laments to Sanha over a patient’s open mouth: “Misook got out again yesterday. Can you hand me the scaler?”

Sanha hands him the tool. “This is the second time, right? Haven’t you lived in that apartment for years? Why is she only getting out now?”

Dongmin frowns as he focuses on a particularly tough bit of plaque. “That’s the thing. I tried looking around but there’s no gaps she could have got out of. Do you think she knows how to open the front door now?”

Sanha scoffs. “Dongmin, I know you think the world of Misook, but she’s a cat. A rather fat one at that. I don’t know that she could even jump high enough to reach your door handle. Maybe she could run at it and bust it open like a battering ram.”

“Hey!” He brandishes the scaler at Sanha like a knife before handing it over darkly. “She’s not fat. She’s just... fluffy.” The patient burbles a bit under his hands and Dongmin quiets down. “Sorry, sir. Rinse, please.”

Sanha chortles as he puts the scaler aside. “That’s what they all say.”

“Misook is fat!!” MJ hollers from the hallway, where he’s filing away administrative records. Dongmin looks like he wants to put his head in his hands, except his hands have been inside a patient’s mouth for the last 30 minutes, and he’d really rather not.

Another week passes. Misook continues to act like nothing is the matter, while Dongmin still has no idea how or why she’s getting out every week. The stress is taking a little bit of a toll on him and he’s taken to (a little neurotically) making lists of possible reasons why she’d even want to go out in the first place, as some kind of coping mechanism.

One of the lists looks a little like this:

**_MISOOK’S REASONS FOR ESCAPING THIS LOVELY HOUSE_ **

  * _She’s tired of the food I feed her._
  * _She wants some exercise. (She knows she is fat??)_
  * _She’s developed a taste for field mice._
  * _She’s moonlighting as a cat burglar once a week._
  * _I’ve started sleepwalking and opening the door for her every Wednesday at 3am._
  * _???_



Writing things down like this, Dongmin feels a little like that guy with the conspiracy map from that episode of Always Sunny. _Was that Charlie Day?_ Grimacing at the apparent similarity, he sticks the note to his fridge with a magnet and goes to bed.

The next morning, it’s a Wednesday yet again, and he’s woken before his alarm. But this time not by a cat, or by the sun. He’s woken by the doorbell.

Dongmin drags himself from the warm embrace of his bed and narrowly avoids tripping on his way out of the bedroom. Yawning, he rubs at his eyes as he pulls the heavy front door open.

The first thing he sees is a bright smile. The second thing he sees is Misook. The third thing he sees are a pair of lovely, lovely arms.

_What on earth is going on?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been about 9 years since i last tried to write a chapter fic (and i never finished that one lmao) so please treat me kindly!! this first chapter is a little short but the next two should make up for it, i also have a bunch more already written so hopefully the next update will not be too far off :3 thank you for reading!!


	2. cirrus

Swiping at his eyes again, Dongmin blinks furiously at the person who’s rung his doorbell. “S-sorry, you are?”

“Hello, I’m Bin,” says the stranger. He strokes Misook on the head. “I’m your new neighbour, and your beautiful kitty cat has been visiting me for breakfast every Wednesday. She’s very sweet.” She has the audacity to meow right at that moment. The stranger - _Bin_ \- smiles down at her fondly. “I thought I’d come back up with her this time, make sure her owner knew she was in good hands.”

Dongmin doesn’t know whether to be horrified or relieved. Relieved because at least Misook hasn’t been dumpster diving or hunting for rats out in the fields, but horrified that she’s been imposing on his neighbour when Dongmin hasn’t even introduced himself yet. Also horrified that his neighbour is very, very handsome. And has very nice arms. And legs.

“Uhh…” Trying his best to dispel the rest of his sleepiness, Dongmin shakes his head vigorously. “My name is Dongmin. T-thank you for taking care of my cat.” He reaches out automatically so Bin can hand her back to him, which he does, but not before planting a kiss on the top of her head. _God, that’s so cute._ “I’m sorry you had to go through the trouble of bringing her back!”

“It’s nothing,” Bin laughs, giving Misook one final pet. “I’m sorry I woke you. It must be your day off.”

Dongmin is suddenly very acutely aware of the fact that he’s wearing nothing but his pyjama bottoms.

“ _Oh my god_ \- I’m so sorry. This is indecent of me.” Dongmin knows he blushes when he’s embarrassed, and right now he knows he must be red from ears to chest. Which is coincidentally also entirely visible to his new neighbour. He hugs Misook close to him in a valiant attempt to cover himself, which doesn’t really work - she is quite a fluffy kitty, but she’s also alive and squirmy, and she wriggles out of his grasp to disappear into the apartment.

Bin lets out a chuckle. “I won’t keep you at your door then. But please know that Misook is welcome whenever she feels like visiting.”

Dongmin must look surprised that he knows Misook’s name, because Bin elaborates: “You have her name and address on her collar tag. Otherwise I might’ve brought her to the police station that first morning. She jumped into my open landing window and then left the same way, so I thought she must know the place well or else I wouldn’t have let her go.”

“Well… thank you so much for watching her these past few weeks.” Dongmin crosses his arms self-consciously. He’s grateful for his relatively flat stomach, but he knows there’s less definition there than he’d like from all the pizza and Netflix he consumes on days off, and he’s also sharply aware of the fact that Bin’s clearly in the peak of physical health. His impressive physique puts Dongmin’s to shame.

Thankfully, Bin takes the hint. “I’ll leave you to it, I need to head in to work. I have a late start on Wednesdays, but the animals won’t treat themselves!” At Dongmin’s questioning glance, he spares a little more information as he backs toward the stairs. “I’m a vet tech. Anyway, it was great to meet you!” Bin waves before disappearing below the landing, and Dongmin retreats into his apartment to be shirtless in private.

Alone now (and also dressed), Dongmin embarks anew on a search for whatever route Misook’s been using to get out of the apartment. At least he knows where she’s been going, but he wants to sate the rest of his curiosity, so he goes about the apartment rattling every window he has. His cheeks still burn from the encounter, but he pushes the entire fiasco firmly out of his mind. _If I don’t think about it, it’s like it never happened!_

Eventually he gets to the bottom of the mystery. The window in his little kitchenette right next to the front door, which leads to the landing instead of directly outside, has a loose handle. Instead of latching tightly shut, the handle is easily pushed askew with a paw, and the window can then be shouldered open like a heavy cat flap before it falls back into place. That, however, would explain how Misook got out but can’t get back in.

Dongmin stalks across the room, grabs Misook out of her cat bed and gives her a little shake, squeezing the rolls of fur about her neck up around her face. “You cheeky little Houdini!”

She meows offendedly and bats softly at his face with her forepaws.

“I’m just glad you’ve been going somewhere safe instead of out into the woods, but…” He presses his thumbs into her plush cheeks and she squirms, but starts purring all the same. “How dare you make me _worryyyyyy_.” He drags out the _y_ , squishing her cheeks around as she purrs up a storm.

“Still, I don’t think I can get the window fixed for the next few weeks…” muses Dongmin. “So I guess you can keep having breakfast with our nice new neighbour for now.”

If he’s honest, that’s just an excuse. Because if Misook keeps visiting their handsome neighbour, maybe their handsome neighbour will keep bringing her back to his door, and maybe Dongmin will then have more reason to keep seeing him too.

_Thanks, Misook_ , he thinks, as she makes a little game out of stalking her squeaky pig for all of ten seconds before she flops down on top of it with a contented _purr-eow_. 

Being a dentist is rewarding and all, but the hours he spends on his feet don’t leave him with much desire to go out on the town and cavort with agreeable company after work. Dongmin has never put too much thought into meeting new people, preferring to stay at home and spend time with his cat, but his colleagues _have_ been teasing him about his solitary existence for quite a few years already.

“Didn’t you have lots of suitors back in your school days?” says Sanha a few days later, as he peels open a plastic takeout box of stir-fried noodles. “What happened with that?” Dongmin’s love life (or lack of one) is one of their go-to gossip topics over lunch when the day is going slowly. Though Dongmin had graduated two years before him, Sanha and Dongmin had attended the same dentistry course, to Sanha’s never-ending glee and Dongmin’s never-ending despair.

“Yeah, didn’t you have a Minsoo or a Bumsoo or a Minbum or something like that?” Myungjun chimes in. Myungjun did not go to the same school as them, but Sanha’s always regaling him with stories of how Dongmin was like in university, so he’s very well caught up on all the hot goss.

Dongmin grimaces. “It was Minsoo and we dated for three months _tops_.”

“Ooh, _did_ you top?” Myungjun leers at Dongmin over his fried rice. Dongmin covers his face with his hands, which fortunately are not covered with patient saliva this time, only spring roll grease.

“We are not discussing my sex life over lunch. This is workplace harassment.”

“But it’s so fun watching you squirm, Dr Handsome.”

“I’m calling HR.”

“We have HR?” says Sanha, with a shit-eating grin.

“I’m HR,” Myungjun says smugly.

Dongmin lets out a very long frustrated sigh.

“Seriously though, are you really not interested in spending your free time with anyone? Like, besides your cat. I know she’s very pretty but you are not a cat so I’d very gladly help you find a nice human man if you just say the word.” Myungjun leans forward on his elbows conspiratorially, flicking his fingers in the air as if he’s an expert on these things and it’s no problem at all.

A long silence follows where the two of them stare at Dongmin, who bristles under their gaze. He does kind of want to tell them about Bin, but he also knows next to nothing about him aside from the fact that Bin is a vet tech and goes on morning runs and has great arms and a really nice smile, and he _also_ knows that this will open the floodgates to a torrent of teasing and questions and manic schemes to try and push the two of them together.

_Ah, what the heck._

“A new neighbour just moved in downstairs and I suppose he’s very handsome,” Dongmin manages to mumble.

Myungjun crows loudly as Sanha’s eyes take on a new glint of interest.

“Oh Dongmin, you dog!!!” Dongmin glares at Myungjun, resisting the urge to throw a spring roll at him. “Having the hots for your _neighbour!!_ What’s his name? How old is he? How many times have you met him?”

“His name is Bin and I don’t know how old he is. I met him once. Misook’s been disappearing to his house on Wednesdays,” Dongmin grits out, picking all the carrots out of his food and making a nice neat pile of them on a paper napkin.

“Oh my god, so that’s where Misook’s been, doing our job for us! Good job, hyung’s fat little kitty!” says Sanha gleefully.

“Now we need to make sure they meet more often,” adds Myungjun. Dongmin can already see the little cogs in his mind turning and he doesn’t think he likes it.

“I think I’ll see him often enough, thank you very much. He’s my neighbour. It’s not like I can avoid him,” says Dongmin huffily. “I didn’t tell you guys so you can interfere, I just told you because you’re my friends. Please respect that.”

Myungjun leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Okay. I acknowledge that this must have been hard for you. We will remove our fingers from this pie,” he says as he swats at Sanha’s shoulder, “but in return I demand that you keep us updated of any and all progress! _Any at all!_ ”

Dongmin groans, but it’s still better than having the two of them actively getting involved in forcing him and Bin together. “If there’s any progress at all,” he agrees reluctantly.

The phone rings then, so Myungjun has to go pick it up, and Dongmin breathes a sigh of relief.

That evening, he runs into Bin on the porch, who is juggling two armfuls of groceries while trying to get his keys out.

“Let me help you,” Dongmin offers without thinking, reaching forward to grab one of Bin’s paper bags. His hands brush Bin’s forearm, which is roped with muscle. Bin seems not to notice the touch, but Dongmin’s fingertips burn like he’s brushed against a hot stovetop.

“Oh, Dongmin! I didn’t see you there. Thank you so much,” says Bin, managing to fish his keys out of his pocket. “I could’ve put the bags down but I dunno, it seemed a lot like losing, you know?” He grins a little roguishly. Dongmin feels his heart beat a little faster and hopes his face isn’t going to turn red just from that.

“Next time maybe just put them down,” Dongmin jokes back. “Don’t want eggs and milk all over the landing.” He refuses to let himself say “ _Or you can call me to hold them for you._ ” Dongmin doesn’t even know where that’s coming from, and honestly, he doesn’t want to.

Bin gets his door open and dips inside to deposit the first round of bags on his kitchen counter. Dongmin can see just a little of the inside of Bin’s place - relatively neat, some moving boxes still unpacked, with a light layer of general _mess_ sprinkled on top of it all. As if someone else had arranged his house for him, like a Sims apartment, and then left Bin to live in it. _Looks like Bin lives alone._ It brings a relieved smile to his face somehow.

“Thanks again,” Bin says, taking the remaining grocery bags from Dongmin. The full wattage of Bin’s smile is turned upon him, and he has to stop himself from swooning.

“Don’t mention it,” says Dongmin, brushing his hair back awkwardly. “Uhh... have a good night.”

“You too!” The bright tone of Bin’s voice carries Dongmin all the way up the stairs as if he’s walking on air.

Misook simpers at him as soon as he enters the room.

“Stop laughing, you cat.” Though his cheeks are definitely flushed, Dongmin can’t help but grin. He sings to himself as he puts out food for Misook, and does a little jig while waiting for his one-pan pasta to be done. And when he tucks himself into bed that night, that smile’s still hanging around the corners of his mouth.

Dongmin hasn’t ever wanted or needed to think about it before, but it turns out that having someone else on your mind is kind of invigorating. There’s something else to look forward to besides payday and sleeping in, someone to give you little scenarios and _what ifs_ to ponder while you’re folding clothes or doing the dishes. Someone who gives you equal amounts of butterflies and quicksand in your stomach whenever you think of them. He’s never wanted for it before, but now that he’s found himself in the midst of it, Dongmin finds he’s not hasty to see it go.

Wednesday rolls around again. This time, Dongmin’s prepared. He’s set his alarm two hours earlier than he would otherwise get up on a day off, just so he can take some time to brush his teeth, fix his hair, put actual clothes on (he thinks he’s picked a very chic yet casual ensemble today - some nice pants and a pale blue linen shirt, perfectly pressed before being ever-so-carefully tucked into his waistband) and now all he has to do is play the waiting game.

_Ding dong!_ Dongmin leaps to his feet. His kitchen window curtains are drawn shut, mostly because he thinks if he sees Bin coming up the staircase he might chicken out and run away. Smoothing his shirt, he takes a couple of calming breaths (with his heart thundering in his ears) before stepping forward to open the door.

Bin is standing there with a little cowlick in his hair, wearing a ratty T-shirt with a few small holes in it and a pair of grey sweatpants, holding a satisfied-looking Misook in his arms. The bright jaunty smile is there too, though it falters a little as he takes in Dongmin’s dressed-up appearance.

“Oh- good morning, Dongmin.” He strokes Misook absently, looking as if he wants to hand her over quickly and then go back downstairs immediately. “Do you have somewhere to go today? Were you waiting for me to bring Misook back before you left? I’m sorry if we’re late.”

_Oh shit._ That was not the reaction Dongmin had expected. He hadn’t realised that Bin might get the wrong idea about his carefully curated outfit. He was just trying to make a better first impression than the one he had made the last week, damn it! (A little voice in his head is nagging about how it’s way too late for new first impressions considering they’ve already met twice, but Dongmin mentally stamps that voice down.)

“No not at all!!” He laughs back a little too cheerfully, forcing his posture to relax. “I uh, got some new clothes recently and decided to try out some looks!” _Real smooth, genius. Of course he’ll buy that._

To his relief, the doubt in Bin’s expression melts away a little. “You must have been really excited about your new clothes to get up early on your day off to put them on,” Bin says with a chuckle, while Misook regards Dongmin with the most discerning gaze he thinks he’s ever seen her direct his way.

“Oh, yeah, I love fashion, I think?” Dongmin babbles, perfectly aware of how inane he sounds.

But fortunately Bin doesn’t seem to notice, or at least he’s polite enough to pretend Dongmin _doesn’t_ seem bananas. “Well I’m terrible at it,” he says as he gestures with his chin to his own outfit. Dongmin looks down to see Bin’s Adidas slides and lets out a snort of disbelief. “Maybe you can give me some tips sometime, Mr Fashion Man.”

Dongmin holds his arms out for Misook, who meows disappointedly and shrinks away from his outstretched hands. “Sure, I’m always open for consultations.” _Stop! Stop while you’re ahead before you make a fool of yourself!_ His inner voice shrieks, but Dongmin brazenly ignores it. Misook jumps from Bin’s arms to the ground and struts past Dongmin into the apartment.

“In that case, maybe you can give me your number so we can arrange one,” Bin says with a grin, rummaging in his pocket for his phone. He produces one that has a cute pastel case with recurring cat face prints on it.

Dongmin immediately flushes red, feeling like steam is escaping from his ears. “S-sure!”

So Bin surrenders his phone and Dongmin types his number in with shaking hands, all the while imagining what would happen if he dropped the phone from how nervous he was. _Then Bin would probably never come back up here again_ , he thinks morosely. But all the same, he saves his number as _Dongmin from upstairs_ with a cute smiley face at the end, and hands the phone back with a thundering heart.

Bin’s eyes crinkle up at the contact name. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to your fashion party. See you soon, Dongmin from upstairs,” he says with a wink as he leaves.

Dongmin stands there a little shell-shocked, and it takes him about a minute to remember he’s supposed to shut his door and go back inside after visitors leave. His phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, and Dongmin sprints across the hall to check it.

unknown number [09:54:21]: its me bin!

unknown number [09:54:32]: im off next wednesday

unknown number [09:55:07]: maybe we can go to the mall and u can pick shit out for me ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He nearly flings his phone across the room, but settles for throwing it on the couch and then sitting in an armchair, looking at the phone like it’s a snake.

He hadn’t expected this to happen this _quickly_.

Dongmin had been envisioning a leisurely three or four months of texting in between patients at work, sending each other pictures of what they were having for lunch and gossiping about their co-workers, interspersed with Bin’s weekly visit to his doorway bearing the princess Misook back from her Special Breakfast Which He Would Never _Dream_ Of Interrupting. Perhaps a nice chat with Bin flirting effortlessly and Dongmin awkwardly navigating the situation like an ocean liner around a bay full of little fishing boats. And then… he hasn’t dared to imagine further yet.

Not Bin asking him out the next week on what is essentially a date, even if it’s just to buy clothes. Well, yeah, Bin thinks he’s a closet fashionista, and that’s something he probably shouldn’t allow Bin to keep thinking for too long because he will invariably slip up once Bin discovers his wardrobe is actually 95% Uniqlo and not fancy expensive fashion brands like YSL and Dior. The fanciest thing he owns is a Burberry coat and _that_ had been a gift from his mom.

Regardless, Dongmin saves the unknown number as Bin with a heart-eyes cat emoji. What Bin doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?

Dongmin from upstairs [10:12:25]: Yeah!

Dongmin from upstairs [10:12:51]: I guess we can grab lunch there too

Dongmin from upstairs [10:13:21]: See you around 11 on Wednesday :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first time i have ever gotten to click "add chapter" hehe
> 
> anyway as you may have noticed, i've changed this fic from 3 to 4 chapters! this is not really me saying it'll be very much longer (sadly) but after thinking through the pacing, this made a bit more sense for me. i've also changed chapter 1's title just to reflect this, the titles don't actually relate to anything in the fic (i mean they do a little bit but it's a stretch so just ignore it lol) i just thought it would be nice to have cute titles :B
> 
> i'm running out of pre-written material but i have been working on this when i can so hopefully i'll be able to update soon :D again, thank you guys so much for reading!! it's also @papillon87's birthday today so go read her fics and leave her comments if you haven't hehe


	3. cumulus

It’s Thursday morning and Dongmin’s on his way to clock in early. There’s about an hour left before their first patient arrives, and he wants to review some of the day’s trickier treatment procedures before things start getting hectic.

Sanha and Myungjun are already in the clinic, chatting in bursts as they go about their respective tasks. The little bell over their clinic’s double glass doors jingles as he walks in, and Sanha looks up from where he’s sifting through the day’s patient files at the reception desk.

“Hyung! You’re early today,” he says, glancing over at the clock. “How was your day off? Misook get out again?”

Dongmin doesn’t need to say anything because the guilty expression on his face says it for him.

“YOU WENT ON A DATE,” Sanha deduces at the top of his lungs, then turns and hollers behind him. “MJ HYUNG!!!!!!”

Myungjun lets out an answering shriek from somewhere in the clinic like a parrot answering his flock of… noisy shrieking parrots. Dongmin has a coffee in his one hand, but he manages to cover his face with the other, his ears burning.

“Dongmin you insufferable little rat, what happened to _any and all updates_? Hmm??” Myungjun says with all the bitterness of a glass of orange juice, wiping his hands on a paper towel as he emerges from tidying up in one of the back rooms.

“There wasn’t anything to update about,” Dongmin tries unsuccessfully, leaving his work bag and coffee at the front desk. “I mean I guess now there’s something to say. But not before yesterday!!”

Sanha scoffs. “You could’ve told us you were, you know, going on a date in the first place!!”

“It wasn’t even a date!” Dongmin defends. “We just went to the mall and shopped for clothes!”

Myungjun lets out what could be considered a squeal. “That’s _domestic_! Of course it’s a date!”

Dongmin sinks down into a swivel chair. “It was not romantic. Really. He thinks I’m _fashionable_.”

“Aren’t you though?”

“No, like he thinks I’m actually into fashion. Like I buy designer couture stuff.”

Sanha’s mouth slips into a little “o” of realisation. “Oh. Oh no. _That_ kind of fashionable.”

“Yeah, so you can guess how that went,” says Dongmin, a little melodramatically.

Myungjun has a glint in his eye by now, and he leans his elbows on the reception counter conspiratorially. “No, I can’t guess at all. Do elaborate, my dear. You did promise _any and all_ updates, so update me.”

Dongmin groans, throwing his head back and making the chair spin slowly. “I mean what else is there to say? We looked in a bunch of upscale stores and I tried to sound smart. I went to medical school for god’s sake, I don’t know the difference between Dior and Gucci besides how one starts with a D and one doesn’t!”

“So did you make a huge fool of yourself?” Myungjun’s mouth is stretched wide in a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be here for me,” grumbles Dongmin to the wall, midway through the chair’s rotation.

“Oh we are, hyung, please continue,” Sanha says quickly while kicking pointedly at Myungjun, who cackles.

Somewhat mollified, Dongmin continues his recount of the day before. “I managed to save myself by telling him just how expensive designer clothing is, because at least I know _that_ much. I guess he’s the kind of person who doesn’t really think much about these things, so it was relatively easy to get out of? Then eventually I steered him into Uniqlo and picked out a bunch of outfits for him.”

A brief smile tugs at the corner of his mouth at the memory of Bin valiantly trying on several shirts and pants in different combinations, making sure to pop out of the dressing room each time and do a little spin to show Dongmin each new outfit. Perhaps there had been a little model-walking too. The way he seemed to sincerely value Dongmin’s opinion on each option was… very sweet, Dongmin thought.

“Aha! I see that smile!” Myungjun crows. “You had _fu~n~_ ,” he sing-songs, propping his chin up in his palms. “What happened next? All that shopping make you hungry?”

“We just had a late lunch at a cafe. Everyone knows you don’t try clothes on after eating,” Dongmin says haughtily, flicking a little rolled-up scrap of tissue at him and earning himself an indignant squawk in response. “And before you ask, because I know you will, we went Dutch. Because I’m an independent working lady.” A burst of raucous laughter escapes his enraptured audience.

All in all, it had been a really pleasant afternoon. Tucked away in a sunny nook just off the mall’s main atrium, the cafe offered some quiet respite from the crowds that thronged the area no matter what day it was. They sat at a little table just inside the cafe’s quaint glass front and chatted about things other than fashion, to Dongmin’s immense relief. He learned that Bin worked in a vet clinic not too far from their apartment block with two other colleagues that he said were called Jinwoo and Rocky. He also learned that Bin was the older brother to a younger sister, who worked in HR by day and released her own rap albums by night. They laughed and talked for several hours until the cafe staff started glancing at them a little too often, making it clear they had stayed much longer than they’d paid for.

When they’d finally got back to the duplex, Bin turned his 100-watt smile onto Dongmin again. “Thanks for spending the day with me,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck in a charmingly aw-shucks sort of manner.

Dongmin’s heart _badumped_ so hard it might’ve given him whiplash. “D-do you want to come up and say hello to Misook?”

Bin’s smile grew even bigger. “Oh, could I? I didn’t want to impose, but since you offered…” And of course, Dongmin could not say no.

Unsurprisingly, the fat cat had been indolently happy to see Bin. She hadn’t had the chance to visit Bin that day, since Dongmin had made sure to get up early and feed her despite it being his day off. So Bin sat on the couch for a while (looking so comfortable and familiar, as if he sat there all the time) and paid her her weekly petting dues while she purred up a storm, before politely and charmingly excusing himself. Dongmin spent the rest of the evening with his head in the clouds, catching himself smiling stupidly every so often but not bothered enough by it to try and stop.

The clinic phone rings loudly, startling Dongmin out of his reverie. Myungjun smirks at him as he leans over the high counter to pick it up.

“Yes, Mrs Taylor, you’re scheduled for two this afternoon. Yes, it’s no problem at all. We’ll be seeing you!” Dongmin is always amazed at how quick and professional Myungjun is with the patients. Too bad none of that is reserved for conversations with Dongmin.

“Oh, look at the time. First patient will be here soon,” Sanha gabbles, ushering Dongmin out of the swivel chair and pushing him towards an appointment room.

Dongmin groans. “Oh, no. I was supposed to run through some of the new procedures before we started.”

“Well, you’ll just have to work on the fly. You’re good at that, right?” Sanha says obliquely, bustling past on his way to sterilize yet another a tray of dental instruments.

Unfortunately, Dongmin discovers he is not as good at that as Sanha thinks he is. They are rolling out some new whitening procedures for patients who have been requesting some more purely cosmetic services and while it’s nothing that will harm them if he messes up, Dongmin is still chagrined at the amount of times he finds himself measuring out the wrong amount of whitening agent or fumbling with some of the unfamiliar equipment. His patients for the day are relatively satisfied despite the hiccups, with only one or two who are vaguely unimpressed by the apparent unprofessionalism, but Dongmin still feels a little more run down than usual by the end of the day.

Since his day off had been spent on a lovely not-date with Bin, Dongmin hasn’t yet gotten his fortnightly groceries. The fridge is running low on supplies and now that a very fit Bin is currently occupying a semi-permanent spot in the corner of his mind, Dongmin feels like he should attempt to eat a little healthier than sometimes having poptarts for breakfast and microwave meals for dinner in a pinch. So he decides to stop by the grocery store after work, hoping there won’t be too much of a crowd.

The store is gratifyingly empty, with only a couple of people milling about in every other aisle. Dongmin pushes a trolley along absently, daydreaming a little about what it would be like to shop with a partner instead of alone for once. The trolley fills up with a somewhat balanced assortment of items, mostly fruit and veg, with a few guilty pleasures like chocolate-chip energy bars.

Dongmin is standing in front of the Dairy display pondering the milk selection (whole milk, low fat, skim, almond, oat or soy?) when a figure sidles up next to him out of the corner of his eye. Dongmin doesn’t like awkward encounters, so he tries to ignore the stranger in the hopes that they’ll go away after choosing their own milk, but they don’t leave.

He’s about to turn and politely go somewhere else in the store when a familiar voice pipes up.

“I’d get chocolate if I were you,” the stranger says right in his ear. Dongmin nearly jumps out of his skin as he looks to see Bin doubled over from laughing next to him, the hood of his running jacket pulled right up to obscure his face.

“I was about to call store security,” Dongmin says threateningly, with a hand pressed to his chest in an attempt to recover from the fright. His heart pounds in his ears, but he can’t tell if it’s from shock or embarrassment (though it’s probably both).

Bin straightens up, stifling his laughter into his hand and pulling his hood back down. “I’m sorry, it’s just, you were _right there_ and I just had to.” He pats Dongmin’s back soothingly, as if he isn’t the cause of Dongmin’s racing heart. “Here, let me get that for you.” Bin leans forward and grabs a carton of chocolate milk, plopping it in the trolley among Dongmin’s healthy pickings.

“Chocolate milk isn’t healthy,” Dongmin blurts out, reaching over to put it back.

Bin snorts. “But you already have lentils. _Lentils_ ,” he says vexedly, as if lentils had committed bank fraud on his account. He puts a hand on Dongmin’s forearm. “Treat yourself. Chocolate milk,” says Bin, accompanied with a cheeky wink. Dongmin leaves the milk in the trolley.

They stroll down an aisle or two together in companionable silence, Dongmin realising with a furious blush that his daydream from earlier is basically now coming true. “Why are you here, Bin?” he ventures, pretending that his pulse isn’t still hammering away like a horse thundering majestically into the distance.

“I got home a little early today, so I thought I’d go for a run to the store and pick up something for dinner. And I guess I’m also here to help you make your milk decisions,” Bin jokes.

Dongmin winces. “You enjoy running that much, huh.”

“It’s fun! You should join me sometime.”

“Uhh… I don’t think I have running shoes,” Dongmin says lamely.

Bin beams. “We can go buy you some next time then,” he says excitedly, like a puppy given his first real bone. Dongmin is torn between excitement and dread.

“Isn’t a good diet enough?” he tries. “Like you said, I’ve got… _lentils_.”

“Lentils won’t help your stamina,” Bin says wisely, making Dongmin suck in a breath. But (to Dongmin’s relief) they don’t continue down this avenue of conversation, because they’ve now stepped into the cat food aisle, and Bin’s attention immediately darts to the cans on the shelf.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Is Misook pregnant?”

Taken aback by the sudden change in topic, Dongmin can only shake his head mutely in response to Bin’s absurd question.

“I thought so. In that case, I’m sorry Dongmin but my profession obliges me to tell you that your cat is _fat_.” Bin says matter-of-factly, turning around in the aisle and standing arms akimbo in Dongmin's way to really make his point heard.

Dongmin can’t bring himself to bristle at Bin, but he’s at least indignantly petulant about it. “For an animal doctor your bedside manner is atrocious,” he grumbles, looking off to the side. Deep down he knows very well Misook is fat, but even having a handsome young medical professional tell you that to your face is a hard pill to swallow.

“I’m more like the animal nurse,” Bin says brightly, rifling through the shelves of food. “Come on, we’ll get her on a healthy diet just like yours and she’ll be fine before you know it.”

He pulls out a can that boasts “ULTRA LIGHT!” contents, running a learned finger with practiced ease down the nutritional value table printed on the side. “Look, this one has all the nutrients she needs at less than half the usual calories.” 

Dongmin looks over reluctantly. “She only likes Fancy Feast,” he says weakly, but he reaches out to take the can anyway.

“We can combine it with some weight control dry food,” Bin continues, hefting a large sack of diet kibble onto his shoulder as easily as if it were but a pillow. Dongmin briefly thinks that it’s fortunate Bin is wearing long sleeves or his focus would have derailed immediately. “So long as you ease her into the new food bit by bit, I bet she’ll do fine.”

“You should come convince her, she _loves_ you,” Dongmin grouches, stocking the cart with a bunch more cans of the ultra light cat food.

“She really does?” Bin says, sounding genuinely gratified. Dongmin can’t find it in him to continue to be grouchy.

They eventually make it to the checkout. Bin has picked up an entire rotisserie chicken for his dinner and Dongmin wants to laugh at him - well-built man in sports wear with a big bag of cat food under one arm and holding a full roast chicken in a paper bag in his other hand.

Dongmin drives them back to the duplex, even though Bin had wanted to walk. ( _“I’m already dressed for it!” “Yeah, but you look ridiculous with your bag of chicken and we both know it.”_ ) They unload Dongmin’s groceries together and Bin helps him carry them up the stairs, hanging around to say hi to Misook as Dongmin puts the perishables away. _If only she knows what’s in store for her tomorrow morning_ , Dongmin thinks, resolving to give her one last can of Fancy Feast tonight as a sort of last hurrah.

“I can’t let you eat an entire chicken by yourself, but if you like, I can bring over some of the salad I bought and we can make a dinner of it,” Dongmin suggests, suddenly feeling bold.

Bin looks up from where he’s crouched on the floor squishing Misook’s cheeks. Dongmin feels himself blush from his ears all the way down to below his collar.

“That’s the way to have a balanced dinner,” Bin announces approvingly after a long pause, breaking into a beatific smile.

“In that case let me just feed Misook first,” Dongmin says quickly, stooping to grab a can of Feast from his customary stash in the cupboard under the sink. Bin looks at him with obvious dismay.

“Misook’s on a diet now,” Bin reminds him, almost pouting. Dongmin hates that a full-grown man like Bin somehow has the ability to turn on an extremely effective set of puppy-dog eyes. He can almost feel Bin’s gaze melting through his defenses. _Steel yourself, you fool! Let Misook enjoy herself one last time!_

“I’ll start her tomorrow? New day, new diet?” He tries, cracking open the tab-top of the cat food can. _It’s already open so now Bin can’t make me switch her yet!_

Bin reaches over calmly and grabs the bag of diet dry food, ripping it open neatly along the top seam. _How does anyone even do that bare handed without scissors?_ All Dongmin has ever managed to do is make the bag explode all over the floor. Bin puts a hand in and grabs a few kibbles, then holds them out in his palm to Misook.

Misook, the traitorous little wretch, leans forward to sniff them discerningly before taking one kernel in her mouth and eating it daintily, just like a cat treat.

Dongmin glares at her, half betrayed and half awed.

“Take out about a quarter of the wet food and put in a little scoop of this stuff,” Bin says ever so smugly, stroking a purring Misook from her head to the tip of her furry tail. “You can do the same for a couple days, then up the ratio to half of each for a few days more. If she’s still taking it like a champ, then you can try transitioning to some of the new wet food.”

Reluctantly, Dongmin agrees. They stand around watching Misook enjoy her dinner for a while before adjourning to Bin’s apartment with the chicken and salad.

Standing side by side at his little kitchen counter, Bin takes apart the chicken with practiced ease as Dongmin rinses the plastic box of salad leaves and cuts up some tomatoes. Then they sit on barstools at his tiny island to eat off some nice dinner plates with disposable party forks because for some reason Bin’s box of silverware didn’t survive the move and he keeps forgetting to get nice enough new ones.

A somewhat awkward silence settles around them as they chew their food thoughtfully.

“Come here often?” Bin says to break it, leaning on his elbow and looking over at Dongmin with a wink. Dongmin rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and even though his cheeks still feel red from the blush that doesn’t seem to ever want to go away, he also feels like he doesn’t want this to stop.

“Only when you aren’t around,” he shoots back.

Bin pretends to be aghast. “I didn’t peg you one for breaking and entering!”

_You can peg me however you like,_ Dongmin’s brain screams before he can shut it down. He hopes the burning of his ears is less noticeable in the low light of Bin’s apartment. (Bin hadn’t switched on the main hall light, and had let several lamps arranged around the place do the job instead. It's sort of romantic. Even if Dongmin's sure he hadn’t done that on purpose.)

“Don’t open your door to my secret agent cat then.” He manages to pick up the thread of banter again and Bin laughs appreciatively, a warm sound that feels like the summer breeze, with a smile that crinkles up the corners of his eyes.

Dinner ends amidst the pleasant conversation, and Dongmin swiftly grabs both of their plates so he can do the dishes, because he’s a gracious dinner guest. He’s also thinking of how to excuse himself so he won’t overstay his welcome, but then he hears the rumbling gurgle of an electric kettle and turns around to see Bin preparing coffee in a nice glass french press.

“I didn’t know you were fancy,” Dongmin quips, drying his hands on his pants.

Bin makes an indignant noise through his nose. “I know I’m no _fashion guru_ , but I like decent coffee.” He gets out two mugs while waiting for the coffee to brew. “Anyway, you’ll see these are hardly fancy mugs.”

Dongmin looks. One looks like a souvenir mug from a fire station and the other one has multi-colored cat paw prints all over it. It brings a gentle smile to his face - seeing simple things like these makes him want to know about their history and how Bin got them, no matter how brief or small.

“My dad was a fireman,” Bin says somberly, plunging the coffee and pouring each of them a cup. He hands Dongmin the fire station mug.

“Oh…” Dongmin doesn’t know how to continue. He cradles the mug in his hands, breathing in the fragrant steam.

“Yeah, but it’s alright, he’s still alive. He just had to retire due to injuries,” Bin says in a brighter tone, picking up the cat paw mug. It looks adorable in his strong hands. Dongmin looks for perhaps a minute longer than he thinks he should.

They sit on Bin’s couch and drink their coffee together, enveloped in soft light and warm shadows. Dongmin feels about as nervous as he is comfortable. As if he kind of knows what should be coming next, but he also doesn’t want to think about it, in case it doesn’t actually happen.

Their shoulders press together, a firm yet grounding reminder of how close they’re sitting. Bin’s free hand drums against his knee for a while, as if he’s making up his mind about something. Then he leans forward to put his mug on the coffee table.

He turns to Dongmin and their eyes meet for a long moment in the half-darkness as Bin takes the mug from him, their hands brushing, before putting it next to his own on the table. His eyes keep breaking contact to glance at Dongmin’s lips, before darting back up to meet his gaze again.

“You can tell me not to,” Bin says almost inaudibly, reaching up gently to touch the side of Dongmin’s face, the angle of his jaw. Instead of a response, Dongmin lets himself lean into the contact, his heart in his throat, his eyelids unconsciously slipping shut.

Bin kisses him, tasting faintly of bitter coffee. In the darkness Dongmin's other senses seem to come alive, and he shivers at the soft slide of Bin’s lips against his own, the rough skin of Bin’s palm against his cheek. His own hand comes up to rest in the crook of Bin’s neck, feeling the firmness of his shoulder, the heat of his body.

He doesn’t want it to stop, but they have to breathe eventually, and Bin leans his forehead against Dongmin’s. “Is this okay?” His voice is low and calm, but Dongmin hears the note of concern. He’s touched by the sincerity.

In lieu of a response yet again, this time Dongmin surges forward and kisses him.

It’s slow and careful but purposeful, as if Bin is determined to learn everything about how Dongmin likes to be kissed just from this experience alone. Time unspools like a thread unbidden, suspending them in a sacred moment that feels unending.

Eventually Dongmin murmurs, “I have something to confess.”

Bin cards a hand through Dongmin’s hair softly. “What?”

“I’m not a fashionista.”

Bin chuckles lowly. “I know.”

Dongmin pushes at Bin’s shoulder without any real malice before leaning back into him. “You could’ve just told me then!”

“And call you out on your little charade? But I was enjoying watching you squirm.”

“I’m leaving,” Dongmin says in a huff, pretending to get up from the couch. Bin grabs him around the waist and hauls him immediately back down.

“It was cute,” Bin says reassuringly, leaning in to kiss him again.

Dongmin finds there’s no suitable comeback to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the small lapse in updates! i started work and had some stuff to attend to but this fic is always on my mind!
> 
> also i am sure everyone is mad i didn't write the shopping date but i think everyone should be sufficiently placated by the end of this chapter :3
> 
> i will try and have the last chapter up soon! thank you everyone for reading! <3


	4. nimbus

Dongmin wakes up.

For once, there’s no sun threatening to pry his eyelids open. It’s a morning that’s drearily overcast, and when he rolls over, the red numbers on his alarm clock gloomily tell him that there are in fact 23 entire minutes before his alarm is due to ring.

He’s left to lay in bed and marinate in the reality of what had happened last night.

His hand comes up to touch his lips absently as Dongmin recalls the feel of Bin’s mouth against his. The memory of how they kissed sends a hot flush of embarrassment through him and he flips over to bury his face in his pillow, kicking at his blanket like a child with a tantrum.

Hearing the ruckus, Misook approaches the bed and meows from the floor in her usual stately way. But this time, instead of getting up, Dongmin reaches down from his blanket pile and grabs her from the floor.

“Misook, I kissed a boy yesterday,” he laments to her, burrowing back into the blankets.

She looks like she’s going to struggle out of his arms, but after a thought, she allows Dongmin to cuddle her close and begins a contented, comforting purr.

Dongmin is touched. For all of Misook’s good qualities, being selflessly caring has never been one of them, and the thought of her being actually conscious of his emotional neediness right now just makes him even more emotional.

“Misook I think he likes me,” he whispers conspiratorially to the cat, who meows sagely as if she can understand what he’s saying. “And I really like him.” She bats at his face with a soft paw, and Dongmin lets himself believe she’s trying to comfort him.

Dongmin should be happy. He should be the cow that jumped over the goddamn moon, elated beyond belief, or however else everyone describes their experience of finally finding  _ the one _ . Except he isn’t.

Well, no, he  _ is _ . There’s no doubt about the fact that every time Dongmin thinks about Bin, his heart does a little wobbly leap like a baby bird trying to fly, and he’s sure if he gave it time it would soar into the sky like an eagle. But at the same time, a little tendril of doubt has wrapped itself around that baby bird’s claw and weighed it down from its maiden flight, and that’s what makes the pit of Dongmin’s stomach shake.

They tell you it helps to put your worries to words, say them out loud, but he tries and finds he can’t even really pinpoint what’s eating at him. All that comes out are unfounded little fears that sound silly even to him as they rattle around his head.

He tries saying them to Misook.

“What if he stops liking me?” Another wise-sounding meow.

“What if  _ I _ stop liking  _ him? _ ” Her patience in his fretting seems to have run out, because she puts both paws up on his mouth.  _ Shut up _ , her big blue eyes say. Dongmin sighs and rolls out of bed to get her some breakfast.

Diet breakfast, he reminds himself a little later, dutifully portioning out her transitional diet food mix the way Bin had taught him just last night.

_ Last night. Last night. Stop!! _ He gives himself a not-so-gentle slap in the hopes it’ll snap him out of it, and starts to get ready to go to work.

On his way to the car, Bin’s door starts to open. Dongmin hurriedly gets in and drives off, before the sight of Bin turns his heart upside down again.

It’s raining when he reaches the clinic, and because of the rain, it’s a relatively slow day. There aren’t any walk-ins during this sort of weather, and they only have a few scheduled appointments, so Dongmin has no choice but to be alone with his thoughts in between patients as he fills in charts and plans future procedures.

Myungjun is also in a snit because of the weather. He’s a sunshiny kind of guy, and when the rain is pattering endlessly against their windowpanes, he gets more and more agitated. At least it’s not storming.

“All our medical supply deliveries have been late,” he fusses, despite knowing full well that they allow an entire week for deliveries to come in, and it’s hardly been four days.

Dongmin makes it a point to tell him. “It’s been four days. They aren’t late yet,” he drones, stirring his coffee lifelessly.

Myungjun glowers at him. “They’re late,” he says again dangerously, so Dongmin doesn’t pursue the issue. But that sets the tone for the entire day, and Dongmin has nobody else to confide in because Sanha’s on leave. (Not that he’d tell them about having kissed Bin yet anyway. Myungjun would only be snarky, and then they’d have a real fight on their hands.)

The day drags on. Dongmin goes to scroll through his phone about ten times, but every time he picks it up, he gets afraid Bin will text him, and he hurriedly puts the phone away again. Yet every time the screen lights up with a message his eyes dart over, only for it to be a push notification, or his mom asking if he’ll visit over the upcoming holiday.

A casual but sweet text does eventually come in from Bin around three pm asking how he is, and Dongmin’s heart hammers pathetically in his chest, but he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know how. He swipes away the notification and pretends it doesn’t exist, and Myungjun is too wrapped up in his own raincloud of delivery delays to notice anything strange going on with Dongmin at all.

When he leaves for the day, the rain hasn’t stopped. It’s not heavy, but it’s constant, and the grey skies follow Dongmin all the way home. He zips up the stairs as fast as he can (noticing, of course, that Bin’s curtains are drawn but the lights are on) and lets himself into his apartment, curling up on the couch miserably.

Misook is not impressed to see that his mood has remained the same the entire day, so she brings him the squeaky pig out of courtesy.

“Thank you, miss kitty,” he says morosely, accepting the pig and giving it a squeeze before handing it back to her.

The evening is spent with box mac and cheese for Dongmin (his guilty pleasure comfort food) and more diet cat food for Misook, eaten in front of the TV. He refuses to watch romcoms in this state, so they watch Planet Earth instead, and Dongmin lets the soothing voice of Sir David Attenborough lull him into a state of resigned calmness.

A few days pass, and the weather does not let up - they get some patchy showers one day, and constant rain the next. The clinic is much colder on days like these, but it’s still too early in the year for heating, so instead Dongmin breaks out his stash of nice merino pullovers.

He does not text Bin back, and he feels like an absolute shit about it, but Bin does not come up to visit (and Dongmin spends as little time within the vicinity of their front doors as possible) so Dongmin continues to be in a mood.

The terrible two at the clinic have picked up on something being the matter by now, but the continued bad weather makes Myungjun relatively uninterested in snooping, and Sanha isn’t bold enough to be the ringleader. So they all sort of tiptoe around each other at work, and Dongmin tiptoes past Bin’s door at home, and tries to pretend nothing’s going on even as he wonders to himself how long he can possibly keep this up.

The next day should be Dongmin’s weekly day off, but because enough patients have requested for their procedures to be done on that day for some odd reason, he’s up early to go in to work. He’s neglected to let Bin know though, and since Misook now visits Bin every week without fail, Dongmin has no choice but to stop ignoring him.

He stares at his phone for five entire minutes before closing their message thread (with Bin’s unreplied texts) and grabbing a pad of post-its instead. It definitely feels like a shit thing to do, but Dongmin can’t be late for the early appointments, so he scribbles a hurried note -  _ Need to go in today, sorry! Keys are under the mat, back at lunch to check on cat _ \- and slaps it on Bin’s door on his way to the car.

The first few appointments are some difficult extractions, and Dongmin throws himself into the work for several hours before his phone begins to ring.

It’s Bin.

They have never called each other, only texted before, and especially now after having ignored Bin’s texts for close to a week, Dongmin is loathe to pick up the call. But he also knows that it must be important for Bin to call him after nearly a week of silence, so he steels himself and answers the phone.

“Dongmin, I was heading out and just saw your note on my door. But I need to tell you, Misook didn’t come over this morning.”

Dongmin’s stomach drops into his feet.

“Sh-she what?”

“I thought… I thought maybe you kept her inside this week. I dunno, you’ve been kind of… anyway, she’s not here.”

“She’s not there? Then where is she?” Dongmin’s aware that Bin won’t have any idea of where Misook is. But his brain isn’t working right now, so his body’s acting on autopilot, and apparently his body’s idea of autopilot is asking stupid questions.

“Just… get back here and search for her,” Bin says, worry evident in his voice. “I need to go in to settle something at work but I’ll come straight back. Hurry, Dongmin,” he urges before hanging up.

Dongmin runs straight to the reception desk, where Myungjun sees the raw fear in his eyes and immediately gets up. “What do you need?” he asks calmly, ever the one to keep a cool head in the strangest of situations.

“I need to go home. Misook is gone,” Dongmin manages to say, looking pale.

Myungjun has already sprung into action, dialling the first of Dongmin’s remaining patients. “I’ll reschedule your appointments,” he assures him, the receiver already pressed to his ear. “Go,” he says, waving Dongmin out the door.

Clouds gather overhead as Dongmin drives home, and it has begun to drizzle by the time he’s parked in the driveway. He immediately starts looking high and low, calling out Misook’s name as he searches in bushes and looks up into trees. She’s always been fascinated by the pond behind their duplex, and Dongmin runs over to check if she’s decided to go swimming, but there is no wet cat sulking among the reeds.

About an hour passes to no avail, and by now Dongmin has googled several iterations of “how to find my lost cat”. He’s grabbed her cat bed and yesterday’s sweater out of his laundry hamper to put on the landing, in case she smells them on the wind. The internet has also suggested leaving some food out for her, so he’s put a dish of Fancy Feast out as well (none of that diet crap, his cat is missing for god’s sake) and is now walking about the grounds fervently shaking a little jar of treats.

Bin’s car pulls up in front of the house and he leaps out, looking every bit as worried as Dongmin feels. “Found her?” Bin asks, but the look on Dongmin’s face answers for him.

The rain gets heavier as time goes by, and Dongmin begins to get more and more frantic. At one point he finds himself running up and down the street shouting Misook’s name, until Bin catches him by the arm and gently tells him that if he keeps doing that, he’s going to scare Misook away.

They agree to split up, and both Dongmin and Bin take an umbrella each to go a little further from the house, see if Misook has gone deeper into the neighbourhood. Some people are home, but they haven’t seen the cat, and all Dongmin and Bin can do is give them a description of what she looks like before going on to the next house and repeating the process again.

Eventually they both get far enough that Bin’s convinced it’s unlikely Misook would have made it any further. Dongmin has been crying, and his eyes are rimmed red as they return to the duplex. His shoes and pants are soaked, and Bin’s are not much drier, but Dongmin can’t bring himself to go indoors when Misook is still out there in the pouring rain.

Instead, he sinks down onto the front step of their shared landing in despair, and Bin looks at him for a long moment before sitting down next to him, putting an arm around Dongmin’s shoulders and allowing him to lean into his warmth.

Dongmin stares out into the rain, and he isn’t exactly bawling, but the tears continue to stream down his face. His mind races with endless scenarios of what could possibly have happened to Misook. _ What if she’s hurt and lying in a ditch somewhere? What if someone stole her? _ It’s almost too much to bear.

“Hey,” Bin says softly, drawing Dongmin gently back from his whirlpool of worry.

“She’s gone,” Dongmin says listlessly, swallowing a sob.

“No, we’ll find her,” Bin says, though a hollow note of doubt hangs about his words.

Dongmin doesn’t have it in him to reply. The rain beats down relentlessly, and in the distance a roll of thunder crashes, like mountains colliding.

Bin tells him that at least in this weather, Misook won’t be running any further. Dongmin knows she’s not a fan of baths, so in a downpour this heavy, she’ll most likely find a dry place to hide and wait til the rain clears up. It’s not particularly comforting, but at least he doesn’t feel so bad not actively looking for her every passing minute, so they sit together on the steps and don’t talk anymore for a long while.

Misook has been there for him ever since he started living on his own. In a way, she’s a symbol of his independence, that first significant step to mark the beginning of his career and his life as an adult. She’s become such a constant that he can’t imagine his life without her. Misook has been his listening ear, the cornerstone of his existence. He can count on her to meow a greeting when he comes home after work, or rub against his legs disapprovingly if he’s back late.

And now she’s gone.

The tears begin to well up again, and his shoulders shake quietly.

Bin holds him through it all.

\--

Eventually, as it always does, the storm passes and the rain begins to lighten. Dongmin wants to go out and search again as soon as it’s light enough, and while he can see the worry etched into Bin’s furrowed brows, he also knows Bin won’t say no. He can’t say no when there’s no other option.

Except as Dongmin clatters back down the steps after a quick change upstairs, a faint but plaintive meow stops him in his tracks.

He whips his head around wildly, trying to place its source.

Across the landing, Bin has heard it too, and he draws close to Dongmin’s side so they can listen together.

The soft meow comes again from around the side of the house, and this time they manage to pinpoint where it’s coming from.

In the foundation of the house, there is a small raised opening. It’s the entrance to a small amount of crawl space under the duplex, meant for the residents to store some outdoor tools or gardening gear. The little door is usually shut, but it doesn’t latch, and sometimes it jiggles loose when they run too quickly up the common staircase.

The meows are coming from inside the crawl space.

Dongmin runs up to it, heart roaring in his ears.

A damp, muddy, bedraggled cat with blue, blue eyes looks up at him and lets out the most pathetic mew he’s ever heard.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes all in a rush, and around him the world finally starts to move once again.

Without regard for the miserable state of her fur, Dongmin scoops her up in his arms and buries his face into her coat. The tears are flowing freely again, but this time they’re tears of relief. “You were here all along. You Houdini of a cat.”

Cradling Misook to him like she’s a precious treasure (because she is), Dongmin turns and hurries back to Bin, who’s still back at the landing, waiting with his hands twined together in a knot.

The bright tear-streaked smile on Dongmin’s face is all it takes for Bin to break into a beaming grin of his own, and it’s like the sun coming through the storm clouds overhead to signal that the worst is over.

They meet on the lawn, and Dongmin reaches out with one hand to pull Bin into a kiss.

It’s wet and kind of smeary, both from rain and tears and also his nose might be dripping a bit, but his emotions are running at an all-time high right now, and he’s kissing Bin, and it’s like one of those transcendent kisses in movies when the lead and the love interest find each other again after they’ve been separated by a natural disaster or something like that.

Or at least it is, until Misook starts yowling and writhing around between them (she’s been squished against their chests in Dongmin’s enthusiasm to get in contact with Bin’s lips) so they have to stop. For now.

Suddenly shy now that everything’s over, Dongmin can’t meet Bin’s gaze. Bin’s looking at him with the softest eyes he’s ever seen, mirroring the gentle smile he’s wearing that makes Dongmin’s heart want to fill up and fly away.

He really wishes Misook would stop complaining, because she’s ruining the moment.

“Bin I--”

“Shh,” Bin says simply, resting his palm on Dongmin’s cheek, just like he did when they sat on the couch together that night. It feels like a lifetime ago.

“Meow,” Misook adds.

They laugh and relent, dispensing pats for the impatient kitty instead. Clearly their romantic confessions will have to wait.

Dongmin brings Misook back to his apartment and gives her a thorough bath (even though she hates baths) before painstakingly blow-drying her (on the low setting, of course) and then swaddling her in a towel that’s as fluffy as she is. Bin goes back to his own place too, so that he can put on some clothes that aren’t soaked and muddy from running around in the storm. And Dongmin remembers to text Myungjun to let him know Misook is safe and well.

Later, when everyone is clean and dry, they lay on Dongmin’s couch together and watch Misook delicately eating her food.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text back,” Dongmin mumbles into Bin’s shoulder, from where he’s half-cradled in Bin’s arms. “Or call. Or talk to you at all.”

Bin laughs and Dongmin can hear it echoing through his chest.  _ What a strange feeling. I like it. _

“As it turns out, you’re much more of a worrier than I thought,” Bin says contentedly, stroking Dongmin’s arm with his thumb. “But it’s okay, because I don’t worry at all.” He’s so smug Dongmin wants to pinch him. Affectionately.

“Shut up,” Dongmin grumbles, butting Bin with his forehead. “I’m sorry, I mean it. You didn’t deserve what I did.”

Bin hums and says nothing, tactfully letting Dongmin take a moment to put words together.

“You are everything I never knew I wanted,” Dongmin begins shakily. “I’ve always been happy to be alone, before. I never thought I wanted or needed anyone before you came along.” 

“After we… kissed…” He bites his lip. “I was so scared, I don’t know why. I was so happy but I was scared. I didn’t want to be that happy if it was going to go away.” His voice falters, ashamed of his fear, but Bin soothes him with a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bin reassures him. “Because I love you.”

Startled, Dongmin starts to sit up from where he’s been laying half-on Bin’s chest, only for Bin to smile and curl a hand into the nape of Dongmin’s neck, pulling him back down into a gentle, affectionate kiss.

And  _ this _ is most definitely the movie kiss, not the one from earlier. This is the one at the end of the romance movie where the lead and their lover kiss on the beach at sunset, just before the credits roll.

It’s unhurried and carefree, and happy and warm. He can feel Bin smiling against his lips, and Dongmin’s glad because he’s smiling too. His heart feels fit to burst knowing that Bin loves him, knowing that this man saw him when he was nearly hysterical and still wanted to stick around.

When they eventually stop for breath, Dongmin rests his forehead on Bin’s shoulder again. “I love you too,” he says softly to Bin’s heart, and Bin hugs him tightly to his chest.

They fall asleep on the couch together, and just before he drifts off, Dongmin thinks to himself that home has never felt more like home.

\--

Dongmin wakes up.

The smell of coffee fills the air, accompanied by the soft sounds of singing and pans clanging on the stovetop.

Taking a moment to stretch, Dongmin climbs out of bed. The new house is more spacious, but he’s accumulated a surprising amount of new clothes over the past two years, and more room was sorely needed.

In the kitchen, Bin is shirtless and singing to Misook, who’s sitting regally on the countertop observing the way he cooks breakfast. She’s much slimmer now, and as Dongmin enters the kitchen with a yawn, Misook leaps down nimbly to come greet him.

Bin spins around and his eyes light up at the sight of sleepy Dongmin. He holds his arms out and walks forward with a beaming smile to gather Dongmin up in a big hug, pressing a smacking kiss to his cheek. “Good morning, my darling.”

“You’re up early,” Dongmin mumbles, angling his head to try and kiss Bin on the lips instead.

“I wanted to make you breakfast,” Bin says brightly, deftly avoiding Dongmin’s efforts. “Don’t kiss me, you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, nasty.”

Dongmin rubs at his eyes and peers over Bin’s shoulder at the stove, where a pile of slightly too crispy pancakes languishes on a plate. Another pancake is sizzling away in the pan, slowly getting burnt on one side. He winces a little.

“Come back to bed, baby,” he says instead, reaching behind Bin to pull the pan off the hob and turn the stove off. “I have some other ideas for breakfast.”

Bin rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “At least have some coffee first, then. You're going to gas me to death.”

"My breath isn't that bad!" Dongmin says haughtily, but he holds his hands out for coffee anyway.

Bin fills the fire station mug and hands it to Dongmin, who takes a big gulp before finally leaning in to get his kiss. His boyfriend gives it without complaint, a long, languid press of lips (and a little tongue) that has him breathing a little harder when they part.

“Now, after you,” Bin says smugly, ushering Dongmin back to the bedroom as if it’s his idea and grabbing his ass on the way there. Dongmin reaches over and pinches his nipple in retaliation, and they half-wrestle their way through the doorframe.

“Stay there, cat,” Dongmin calls out with a laugh before the door clicks shut behind them.

Pressed into the mattress and showered with kisses, Dongmin can’t imagine spending a day off alone ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this final update took much longer than anyone expected :') thank you for sticking with me!! and yes, it's been so long that i forgot if i had anything important to say at the end haha. but i do want to say that most of this chapter was the first thing i had planned when i started writing the fic, and that's actually what made it take so long, because i couldn't figure out how to get it to work with the other three chapters i had to write :P and also uhh work is very busy (pushes the other two fics i wrote in the interim out of sight we don't talk about them)
> 
> anyway, thank you very much everyone for reading and i'll see you soon for the next thing i have planned <3


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